Roundabout
by A Little Rusty
Summary: It's been gradual. Little things from him, so as not to scare her off. Small grenades here and there. Few slips ups. Too many I'll walk you home's and roundabout movie dates. Accompaniment to Hesitate.


**Accompaniment to Hesitate.**

**Disclaimer: BOO**

* * *

"Sooo," Phoebe says almost teasingly, "is there anything you want to tell me, Helga?" she leans on the lockers while Helga fishes for her 3rd period notes.

It was the end of the day and Helga was _this_ close to having a Phoebe-interrogation-free day.

At least she had the grace to wait till after everyone left school. But still... _Sheesh_.

"I don't know what you're talking about," is her blasé reply, painfully trying her best to keep her secret.

She was _barely_ even ready to admit it to herself. In the dark of the night. Under her pink sheets. With her phone's screen _spelling_ it out for her. Even then she was still too nervous to even whisper it.

But Phoebe always knew how to read between the lines when it came to Helga. She knows how this girl thinks.

"Helga, it's not going to disappear _just_ because you to admit it," she says softly, always the voice of reason.

And instantly Helga's rigid posture drops, like all the self-assurance that kept her straight left her.

"That's just it, Pheebs," she turns to her best friend, anguish clear as day on her face, "it's _Arnold_."

"So?"

"What if he realizes I'm no good? You know how fucked up my luck is. Better not let this whole ordeal sink in just for him to end it," she says to the belly of her locker, brows strewn together in mild anger.

**NO ONE** made Hegla G. Pataki insecure.

"Hey, shut up," Phoebe says softly, stopping Helga from further angrily stuffing her locker.

Helga breathes out, her eyes closed.

"I _really_ like him," she pinches the bridge of her nose.

Phoebe knows better than to correct her. Like? Ha, understatement of the year.

"And he _likes_ you back," she teases and pokes Helga's side childishly. She continues until something like a smile crept up on Helga's face.

It started out as a stretch of the lips then a grin then something like the beginnings of a chuckle then a full out giddy giggle.

Helga G. Pataki giggled.

"He likes me back," Helga whispers though Phoebe doesn't think the blond knew she said it out loud.

"Who told you, by the way?" she turns to the Asian girl again when she finished whispering her awe.

"A little birdy told me," she says in singsong, on her tip toes in her giddiness. "They saw you leaving with Arnold last Saturday night."

Helga rolls her eyes.

"_You_ saw me leaving with him. Doi," she palms her forehead.

"Oh hush. It's more dramatic this way," she swats Helga's arm, which made Helga snort and Phoebe giggle.

"...I've been avoiding him since then," the blond shakes her head, her laugh still echoing from her lips.

"Helga!" Phoebe chastises.

"What am I going to do with him?" she asks half to herself, not entirely sullen. Mood slightly better but still apprehensive.

Phoebe peeks over Helga's shoulder and I swear to god, the cheshire cat himself was on her lips.

"Figure it out quick because here comes your chance," she laughs at the alarm frozen on Helga's face before she leaves.

It was uncharacteristic of her but kid needed the push.

Her best friend deserved her happy ending, after all.

_Let yourself have it,_ she silently prays (almost beseechingly) through her laugh.

* * *

"Helga," his voice slightly hurt.

"A-arnold!" hers stricken.

_I thought you already left. _She panics.

She clears her throat and adjusts her backpack.

"I got your text," she says casually.

"And I saw how you _ran_ from me after fourth period," he sounds angry but Helga knew better. Hurt. The boy with the 'cornflower' hair was hurt.

For once, Helga lets instinct take over.

But all the same she's glad for the empty hallways. No one to see her uncharacteristic show of softness.

She takes a hesitant step towards him and shyly reaches for his hand.

Where Arnold was bold she was brave.

She holds it and softly pads her thumb across his knuckles. Her eyes downcast, trained on the pinkness of his knuckles.

She feels his warmth and she's tempted to come closer.

Later. She shakes her head. _Later_.

"Arnold, you _know_ me... That's why you sent me that text," she whispers too quietly. Arnold's just happy she's being honest today.

She didn't answer any of his calls or house visits, so he texted.

"And I _**mean**_ it," he says in his Arnold way. "No more outs, Helga. This time for sure."

Years ago, he promised he'd let her decide. Take all the time she needed. But now that he finally had her, there's panic in his chest that squirms at the thought of her backing out.

He touches his forehead to hers. He doesn't know it until he feels her fringe there.

He wraps his other arm around her.

Communication. If they were going to keep this alive, they needed a whole lot of it. He makes this promise.

They've honestly come a long way.

He kisses her cheek just beside her nose. He twiddles her goat ears a bit before withdrawing.

Her heart spikes, as always.

"Come on, I'll walk you home," he says quietly.

He leads the way but stops when the person connected to the hand he was holding didn't budge.

He turns to find her eyes still downcast. Worry rose.

She cuts him off though.

"Arnold?... Just one thing."

"Go ahead," he comes closer, he laces their fingers _**tighter**_.

"No more outs. Even if I make a run for it pull me right back in, okay? Don't..." she licks her lips and her brows together in distress over her show of weakness, "don't give up, all right?

"Can you do that for me, football head?" she says gruffly. Or at least tries to.

...

He could say something equally emotional. But he knows that though Helga was heavy with feelings and emotions, she never liked talking about them.

Plus she never really needed to ask. Not with him.

Instead,

"Slausen's?"

There's more than one way for people to communicate. Knowing when to push and when not to is just as important.

"...I'd like that," and it strikes her how easy it is to fall on the right side of the fence with this boy.

What took her so long?

She shakes her head as she stares at the back of his head then to their laced fingers. She grips them tighter, stops and tugs him to her.

She kisses him. For once, not entirely caring if it was the right moment or not.

* * *

**Next would be oneshots. How Arnold figured out he liked Helga and his pitiful moves:**

**Little things, small grenades, slips ups, I'll walk you home's and roundabout movie dates...**

**More soon.**


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